


Not So Bad

by falloutboyaf



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, kind of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:52:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboyaf/pseuds/falloutboyaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"i came to this gym to work out but i can't stop watching you do one armed push ups that's so hot" AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> if u want embarrassed patrick and flirty pete then this is the fic for u  
> hope yall like this one too xo

Patrick didn't go to the gym often. And, personally, he found it slightly rude when he received five month membership as a birthday gift. Not that he said anything, but he did give his friend the silent treatment for a week, because who does that? But after lots of thinking, he decided it couldn't hurt to use it.  
He went inside, and was almost disgusted by the strong smell of sweat. It was large and open, lot of workout equipment everywhere. For a moment, he shifted his weight from each foot, feeling insecure being in such a huge place wearing basketball shorts that hardly matched his shirt, with all the athletic people in their workout clothes with toned bodies and hardly a glimpse of sweat. Definitely out of his comfort zone. He made his way over to a mat that had some weights on a rack just by it. Patrick inspected it, picking each up, before deciding on two 8 pound ones. He held them cautiously, and slowly started lifting each arm up and down. Soon it got easy, and he did it swiftly, and stopped to pick up two 10 pound dumbbells. After continuing for a few minutes, he was joined on the mat.   
The other guy was short, with dyed blond hair, wearing a snapback, a grey tank top, and some black shorts. He didn't look towards Patrick, but quickly got on the ground, getting into a planking position. Patrick tried not to look (failing miserably) and lifted the weights, doing his best to not make it seem like it was a struggle. And wow, he was really out of shape. His weights suddenly got heavier, face burning. The man was doing push ups, quickly and with perfect form. Patrick flushed, and couldn't stop staring, especially when he lifted his hand behind his back. And fuck, yeah, that was hot. He started to slow down with the weights, focusing more on the guy doing one armed push ups. The man's muscles tensed with every lift, loose top hanging off his front, and Patrick swore if he was just foot to the left, he could see under it at his tan chest. His arms were covered in art, tattoos darkly wrapping around all the way to his wrists. Whenever Patrick tried to focus on something else, his eyes wandered to the ground. Five minutes later, his blush faded, but he was staring intently.  
"Holy shit," He whispered. As soon as he said it, he realized it was a little too loud, and oh fuck. The man looked up, and Patrick went pink again (fuck his pale skin), seeing him smirk, then he returned to do the push ups, counting out loud now like he was taunting Patrick. Then, Patrick put the weights back, ducking away, almost humiliated, but trying not to make it look like he was rushing. But holy fuck, that was really, really hot, and he was never going back to the gym again. He decided on some leg machine, in which he lifted weight with his calves, because it was the farthest from the mats. Patrick set it to a comfortable 70 pounds, and began lifting, pushing the incident out of his mind as best he could.  
Suddenly, someone sat beside him, and of course it was the fucking push up guy. The man set the weight to 120, and began pumping his legs. And again, Patrick couldn't stop looking. His legs moved slow, showing off his calves, as he gripped the chair, highlighting his arms again because of his clutch. Patrick coughed, and he looked to the side, biting his lip at Patrick, up and down as his legs slowed, and wait, was he checking Patrick out? It was confirmed, when he shot Patrick a wink  
He choked, ignored it, and got up walking over to the water cooler, being followed by none other than the same guy. Patrick got himself a cup silently, as the guy leaned against the wall. Patrick didn't face him.  
"Hey," He said.  
"Uh..." Patrick said, turning and pursing his lips, lifting his water, as if to say "Sorry I'm busy. With this water. Very important."   
"I'm Pete." He dismissed Patrick's gesture.  
"Uhm, Patrick."  
Pete laughed. "You're cute when you're embarrassed."  
Patrick's eyes widened. "Oh, thanks." He wanted to deny it, he wanted to walk away, he wanted to disappear into the middle of the earth never to be seen again. None of those things happened.  
"So, you like when I do push ups?" He asked forwardly, with a suggestive smile. Patrick looked at his shoes, refusing to meet Pete's eyes.  
"I was just-"  
"Because I totally saw you checking me out."  
"Fuck," He muttered. "I wasn't checking you out. I meant, yeah... But not like that..."  
"It's cool, " Pete chuckled, brown eyes bright and interested. "I don't mind when hot guys check me out."  
"Hardly," Patrick said, attempting to explain with a wave of his hand, a small laugh escaping him. "I mean, next to you, it's like... no."  
"You think I'm hot?" Pete asked, looking at Patrick like he had no idea he was fucking attractive. It earned a huff from Patrick, and an exaggerated eye roll.   
"You are, and you know it." Patrick wanted to call him cocky, but he didn't, because he really liked this guy, and why the fuck would he say that? Now, he shook his head at himself.  
"You're right. I'm very pretty. Well, hey, I don't mind cute guys asking me out either. You are gonna ask me out right?" He said with a look, eyes firm but wondering. Patrick wished to be wearing anything else. Something that he could fiddle with or pick at, something more comfortable that he could hide in.  
"I wasn't planning on it."  
"Really?" Pete said, taken aback ever so slightly. "Well shit. Guess I'll have to ask you out then. You have your phone?"  
"Yeah," Patrick pulled out his I-Phone without hesitation and handed it to Pete, who opened up his contacts and typed in a number. When he gave it back to Patrick, he saw that Pete had put his name in as "Pete" which was normal enough, but it had a long string of winking, heart, smiling, and sparkle emojis. Patrick laughed, and looked up at Pete, wearing a toothy smile.  
"Call me Trick. Wanna take you to dinner. Goodbye kiss?" He asked, with false innocence. Patrick shook his head. "Fine," Pete pouted. "Well, maybe when we have dinner tomorrow night."  
"Maybe," Patrick agreed, with just enough confidence, and a lip bite. That made Pete, take a deep breath, pupils getting larger at the quick change of personality, before turning to walk away, holding a hand up to his ears like a phone. Patrick covered his face, and left the gym, deciding that maybe going wasn't such a bad thing after all.


End file.
